Still Hurting
by rainlightautumn
Summary: And where can I turn? Covered with scars I did nothing to earn, maybe there's somewhere a lesson to learn. But that wouldn't change the fact, that wouldn't speed the time once the foundation's cracked. Slash, ProwlxJazz


Title: Still Hurting

Pairing: Prowl/Jazz

Summary: "And where can I turn/Covered with scars I did nothing to earn/Maybe there's somewhere a lesson to learn/But that wouldn't change the fact/That wouldn't speed the time/Once the foundation's cracked"

Author's Notes: I am not an angsty person, and I do not do angst well. But some really bad stuff going on seems to have influenced my writing. I wrote this after finding a version of the "song meme" I did while I was high on prescriptions. This is in the same universe as the drabble "I Don't Feel So Well" from my fic "Dreaming Through the Noise," which can be found in my profile (though you don't have to have read it to make sense of this). It is also based on various personal experiences.

Written while attempting sleep at an unmentionable hour, so if some of the ideas are a little abstract, that could be an explanation. Or I'm just a little spacey. That could be it, too. :) I'm not very fond of the ending, but this was more of a way for me to distract myself by just writing without slaving over every phrase, so I'm fairly satisfied.

Summary and title are from the song "Still Hurting" from the musical _The Last Five Years_.

--

Jazz enters his quarters, slumping against the door once it cycles shut. It's exhausting to go throughout the day, smiling, planning, pretending nothing happened, focusing on the war and reminding himself that it was first and foremost in importance, to shove all feeling of hurt and betrayal aside—

His vents cycling in a type of sigh, Jazz straightens and makes his way to his berth. Maybe, he thinks not for the first time, maybe recharge will help, and he'll online tomorrow and it will hurt less.

Jazz smiles humorlessly at the useless thought and makes to sit down (_more like collapse_, a voice in his head murmurs dryly) when a soft glow on his desk catches his attention.

Curious and wary, the saboteur crosses the room to pick up the data pad lying innocuously on his desk. A cursory glance reveals a letter addressed to him and though it is unsigned, he knows at once who it's from. Optic ridges furrowing in a frown, Jazz begins reading.

_Jazz,_

_I do not quite know how I should begin this. I have attempted to speak to you in person quite a few times. However, the times when I actually manage to catch you before you get away, everything I aim to discuss seems to flee my processors and I am left with nothing. Thus, I am resorting to the final logical option—written communication._

_I find that even when not confronted with your immediate presence, I am still at a loss for words, so I shall put it simply._

_I am sorry._

_Even as I write them, the words are insufficient._

_My actions were inexcusable. I came to this realization orns after our altercation, but by the time I had gathered the courage to ask your forgiveness, you were gone. My attempts to locate and contact you ended in vain, and I lost hope of ever seeing you again._

_My reasons for pushing you away were difficult for me to determine. I will not expound upon them, for I do not see that they are important to the point I am trying to convey. An explanation would be an attempt at excusing my words and actions, and you deserve more than that. What matters is that I was malicious, unjustified, and the epitome of a fragger, and all I can say is that I am more sorry than words can convey._

_I cannot predict what you will do with this. If I were in your position I do not know how I would react. I want you to know that I have been here, thinking about you, remembering all that we shared, and regretting._

_Over the vorn, there has not been an orn where I did not find myself thinking of you. My life has not been the same without you._

_I do not wish to ask your forgiveness because that seems both arrogant and insignificant. I do not know that I would deserve it anyways._

_I expect nothing of you. _

_Just know._

_I am so, so sorry. _

_I miss you every day in ways both large and small. _

_I still love you._

Jazz stares at the words, his CPU mercifully blank. After a moment he lowers the pad and his shoulders slump.

"What am I going to do with this?" He asks the room at large. He is met with only silence.


End file.
